


Of Roommates And Hallways

by Madlyie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, I just wanted to write happy things, I mean it, Just wait and see!, M/M, Prompt Fic, and I can't write tags, be prepared, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3494459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlyie/pseuds/Madlyie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> prompt: “we both got kicked out of our rooms because our roommates are having sex so now we’re standing in the hallway avoiding each other” au</em><br/> <br/>Enjolras learns that the guy from apartment No. 27 is much more talkative than a closed door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Roommates And Hallways

 

***

 

“This is ridiculous,” Enjolras tells the closed door of his apartment.

The door doesn’t look very sympathetic but at least it doesn't argue.

Enjolras loves his best friends. He is totally happy that they eventually got their shit together after he listened to their mutual pining for  _years_  but why couldn’t they have really loud sex somewhere,  _anywhere_  else? No, instead Enjolras got kicked out of his  _own_  apartment on a Friday evening even though he could have really used the time for finishing his essay, thank you very much.

“Just ridiculous,” he says again.

The door doesn’t seem to share his indignation.

“I don’t think it’s going to answer.”

Enjolras turns around to find the guy from apartment No. 27 sitting on the floor and leaning against the closed door of the elevator that hasn’t been working for as long as Enjolras can remember.

“But I’m positive you could tear it down with that impressing scowl of yours.”

Enjolras frowns. 

“Right, this one.” No. 27 grins crookedly and Enjolras doesn’t know what to say about that.

“I should… ring,” he eventually settles on and gestures vaguely at the door. A moment later there is a thud and something that sounds suspiciously like a moan. “Or I should not do that.”

The other guy just smirks.

 

***

 

The next time it happens is only three days later.

Combeferre at least _looked_ sorry for a moment and expressed his guilt by shoving a book from the shelf next to the front door in Enjolras’s hand so he wouldn’t have to sit in the hallway all on his own. For Combeferre books are just as valuable companions as people.

Only that Enjolras is not alone in the hallway because he shares it with the guy from apartment No. 27 in semi-awkward silence.

It turns out the book only contains very detailed pictures of organs every medical student would be thrilled by but Enjolras isn’t a medical student so that’s not really an improvement.

 

***

 

Enjolras starts to wonder what he did to deserve this.

“Nice socks,” No. 27 notes and Enjolras only then realizes how he has to look like, in sweatpants he owned since he was seventeen, a too big t-shirt from Combeferre with a giant face of Nicola Tesla on it that he only wears because sometimes his mind seems to forget such trivial things as laundry, and a pair of very pink Hello-Kitty socks that definitely belong to Courfeyrac.

He can feel his cheeks heat up.

“They’re really soft.”

“Of course they are,” No. 27 says and smirks.

 

***

 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Enjolras states when he finds himself locked out of his apartment for the fifth time in three weeks.

It’s not even 7pm yet, bloody hell.

“Can’t say I disagree, mate,” guy from apartment No. 27 says, already sitting on his usual spot by the elevator.

Enjolras chooses to ignore the ‘mate’. Instead he looks at the other man for a moment.

An inky black curl dances on his forehead as he breathes out against it. There’s an amused glint in his bright eyes that are a mixture of blue and green as if they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to look like the sky or the sea.

“Have you eaten yet?” Enjolras hears himself asking.

No. 27 looks surprised. “No?” he says and it sounds almost like a question. 

“Alright, I am hungry and I know a place where they have really good pizza.”

The other man doesn’t move.

Enjolras frowns. “Are you coming? Or don’t you like pizza?”

Slowly a smile spreads over his face. Then he stands up. There are red paint stains on his jeans.

“Who doesn’t like pizza?”

 

***

 

That evening Enjolras learns that No. 27’s name is Grantaire. 

He also learns that they have nothing in common except the ridiculous sex drive of their roommates, a mutual love for black coffee and curly hair.

All they do is arguing. About politics, the world and pizza toppings.

Still Enjolras doesn’t come home until four and a half hours later. 

He isn’t even annoyed when he stumbles over Combeferre’s abandoned cardigan in the dark living room.

 

***

 

The next time Enjolras doesn’t even wait for Courfeyrac to shove him through the door.

He grabs his jacket and leaves before someone throws a pillow or a t-shirt at him.

In the hallway Grantaire sits on the staircase, not by the elevator. When he sees Enjolras he stands up and grins.

“Guess it’s my treat today.”

 

***

 

Enjolras learns that Grantaire studies art. He also mentions almost shyly that he dances.

He doesn’t seem to believe in anything, not in humanity, religion or progress. He casually quotes Schopenhauer and Nietzsche and talks about Oscar Wilde like they’re old friends.

Still he smiles encouragingly at the new waitress who is so nervous that she almost messes up their order and when he starts to talk about his friends a genuinely fond expression spreads over his face and refuses to leave.

He’s infuriating.

He can eat with chopsticks and has tiny moles all over his forearms.

 

***

 

It’s Friday evening and Combeferre is making dinner in the kitchen. No one is allowed in the kitchen when Combeferre cooks especially not Enjolras because the only thing he can do without burning anything is coffee. He and Courfeyrac are discussing which movie to watch but all Enjolras can think about is Grantaire who might be sitting alone in the cold hallway.

It’s not that cold.

It’s June but anyway.

“Hey, would you two mind if I go out tonight?”

Combeferre pokes his head out of the kitchen. “You want to go  _out_?"

“Uhm yes, you two can have a nice evening and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Combeferre takes of his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose and puts his glasses back on. “We don’t mind you here, you can stay if you want to,” he says seriously but the impression falters a little because he’s wearing an apron and there’s something in his hair that looks like paprika.

“Yes, sure I know that. I just… I mean if  _you_  don’t mind I’d like to …”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” Courfeyrac interrupts him, “We won’t mind if you don’t mind.”

Enjolras smiles because Courfeyrac is trying very hard to suppress a grin. “I don’t mind,” he says and grabs his jacket from the coat rack.

 

***

 

Enjolras learns that Grantaire doesn’t laugh often but when he does it’s one of those full-body laughs and afterwards his cheeks are red and Enjolras can’t stop grinning like an idiot.

 

***

 

One day about two weeks later Enjolras is waiting in the hallway with a book in his lap when the door of apartment No. 27 opens. A young woman pokes her head out, black ringlets sticking into every direction and her eyes find Enjolras sitting on floor. She smiles at him, he hears muffled voices and something that sounds suspiciously like, “Shh, Bossuet,” then she closes the door again.

When Grantaire comes out ten minutes later his cheeks are slightly pink and Enjolras heart leaps in his chest. He’s not even surprised. He’s gotten used to it over the past few weeks.

He stands up and Grantaire steps closer biting down on his lower lip like he’s nervous.

“My roommates are not having sex right now,” he says.

Enjolras can’t help but smile. “Mine is not even at home.”

 

***

 

That evening Enjolras learns that Grantaire kisses like he laughs. He stands up on his tiptoes because Enjolras is taller than him but his hand is a steady pressure on Enjolras’s hip while the other one runs through his hair and his lips move gently against Enjolras’ as if he’s afraid to shatter the moment. He doesn’t because when Enjolras kisses him back he can feel Grantaire’s smile on his lips and his heart beats so hard that he’s certain Grantaire hears it. And he hopes he does.

 

***

 

Some weeks later Combeferre stands in the hallway with nothing but a pair of plaid pyjama pants and a 800-page-tome about the history of the French revolution pressed against his chest.

“What just happened?”

The closed door doesn’t answer but Courfeyrac won’t stop laughing for at least five minutes.

 

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. Sorry for mistakes, English isn't my first language but I do my best. :)  
> I'm also [here](http://vintage-jehan.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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